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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24845431">Fraternization</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/CarelessHux'>CarelessHux (AraSigyrn)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse of Authority, Abusive Power Dynamics, Bondage, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Multi, The First Order has no concept of Consent, Unhealthy Sexual Boundaries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:27:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24845431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/CarelessHux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"<em>DIRECTIVE 86991: CLAUSE 45779-F5 (AMENDMENT) - ON FRATERNIZATION</em><br/>For purposes of morale, unit cohesion and improved mental resilience, it is hereby decreed that persons being unsuited to marital relations for reasons of rank, assignment or other shall be assigned one (1) Intimacy Assistance Partner (hereafter 'IAP') and shall thereafter be assigned not less that two (2) Interpersonal Intimate Assisted Assignments (hereafter 'IIAA') with said IAP per rostered cycle."</p><p>Phasma has been Hux's Assigned Intimacy Assistance Partner for many mutually beneficial years.</p><p>Kylo Ren interferes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Phasma, Armitage Hux/Phasma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fraternization</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>DIRECTIVE 86991: CLAUSE 45779-F5 (AMENDMENT) - ON FRATERNIZATION<br/>
For purposes of morale, unit cohesion and improved mental resilience, it is hereby decreed that persons being unsuited to marital relations for reasons of rank, assignment or other shall be assigned one (1) Intimacy Assistance Partner (hereafter 'IAP') and shall thereafter be assigned not less that two (2) Interpersonal Intimate Assisted Assignments (hereafter 'IIAA') with said IAP per rostered cycle.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Captain Phasma makes her way through the corridors of the <em>Finalizer</em>, noting any deficiencies or laziness among the crew as she does.  The <em>Finalizer</em> is the newest ship in the First Order, the finest of the <em>Resurgent</em> class and she will not tolerate any imperfections.  The crew are privileged to serve on the flagship of the First Order and she expects their finest performance as is only right and proper.</p><p>She enters the bridge to find Captain Peavey and Lieutenant Mitaka looking over some star maps with visible signs of discomfort.  Good.  The General must be in his office.</p><p>Phasma ignores them in favour of proceeding across the bridge to the closed door at the back.  She confirms the nameplate has been correctly installed with a glance and lifts a hand to request admittance.  The door pings a second later and slides open.  She steps inside and lets it close behind her.</p><p>Her General looks up from his datapad, the blue illumination from his displays washing the scant colour from his face.  "Captain Phasma."</p><p>"General Hux, sir." She does not say anything further.</p><p>"Stars, has it been a cycle already?" The question is evidently rhetorical.  She remains silent.  "I had not expected so many delays in this deployment.  Everything has been allowed to run over time."</p><p>That is an apology, she knows, though he will not thank her if she draws attention to that fact.  Her General sets his datapad aside.  "Tonight, I presume?"</p><p>"Yes, sir."</p><p>"That is satisfactory," he says after a quick scan of his calendar.  "I will be occupied until the end of shift.  Do you require ...anything?"</p><p>"I have forwarded the requests to KS5-K1," Phasma says, "and expect delivery at shift end minus 30 decacycles."</p><p>"I'll instruct it to leave them out," Hux says with a nod.  "The entry code remains the same and you have been added to authorized personnel for the purposes of access."</p><p>"Yes, sir." She salutes, pleased by the efficiency.  He inclines his head in acknowledgement.</p><p>"Until then," General Hux returns his attention to his datapad.  Phasma pivots on her heel and exits the office.  The bridge crew peer at her and she hears some breathless whispers but those are easily quelled by a slow turn of her head.  Phasma departs from the bridge feeling a pleasant sense of anticipation.  Her remaining duties for the shift are easily completed and she leaves the sign-off to her Sergeant who is experienced enough not to question her.  </p><p>Phasma makes her way to the General's assigned quarters.  She attracts a certain amount of attention but none of the crew are foolish enough to question her.  She passes the last set of guards, stationed at the end of the corridor leading to the senior officers' private quarters.  Ordinarily, this would only mean those quarters assigned to General Hux but, as per the Supreme Leader's orders, the <em>Finalizer</em> has also been assigned one of his acolytes as co-commander.  Lord Kylo Ren's position is outside the established hierarchy but gestures such as this placate Leader Snoke who is overly concerned with the Force.</p><p>Lord Ren is in fact exiting the corridor and passes through this final checkpoint as Phasma is entering.  He is a striking figure, she notes.  Overly dramatic and flamboyant as are so many Force-addled mystics.  His size suggests that his physical attributes are likely high but the state of his robes suggests a serious lack of discipline.  Phasma does not approve.  Discipline is the core of true power, not this Force.</p><p>She salutes as he passes, a beat behind the assigned guards.  Lord Ren pauses and turns his helmeted head in her direction.</p><p>"Captain...Phasma?"</p><p>"Lord Ren," she says in reply.  His body language suggests curiousity but it seems that whatever duty he is leaving to attend to is more pressing.  He nods to her and continues on his way.  Phasma does not watch him leave.  Indeed, she dismisses any thought of him as soon as he leaves her field of vision.</p><p>She passes through the checkpoint and enters the General's quarters.  Larger than those he had been assigned on the <em>Reaver</em>, she notes but the same possessions are carefully arranged, all in their proper places.</p><p>KS5-K1 is hanging freshly laundered uniforms and turns at her entrance.</p><p>"Captain Phasma, sir," it says.</p><p>"You are dismissed," she says amicably enough.  The droid completes its task, bows and departs through a service door in the reception area.  Phasma enters the refresher and finds her dressing gown, clean and freshly pressed, hanging by the door.  She removes her armour and sets it aside.  There are some off-duty clothes neatly folded beside the dressing gown but Phasma elects to leave them where they are.  General Hux's gown is hanging on the opposite wall and she leaves her neatly folded armour underneath it before returning to the main room.  </p><p>As directed, KS5-K1 has left the supplies she ordered on the small table by the viewport.  Phasma crosses to inspect them.  She does not know precisely where they were acquired.  It is not necessary for her to know and General Hux's sources are more discreet than ordering through the Commissary.  They are of high quality, she notes with approval.  The rope is soft but strong when she tests it.  It is a pleasing shade of pink which she thinks will look very fine while leaving minimal marks.</p><p>The <em>vrassa</em> oil is also of high quality, warming easily as she rubs a drop between her fingers.  It remains slick, not tacky as most lubricants do after a couple of minutes.  Phasma sets the bottle down and takes a moment to appreciate the view from the viewport.  The <em>Finalizer</em> is a splendid ship and the perspective offered by the viewpoint shows her clean lines and the recesses of her weapons systems.</p><p>The door opens and the General enters.  He nods to her as he locks the door behind him.  Only then does he strip the gloves from his hands.  They both exhale, the space that divides them suddenly charged with potential.</p><p>"Do you want a drink?"</p><p>"After," she demurs.  He nods and reaches up to unfasten his collar.  Phasma watches him disrobe with distinct pleasure.  He is not a large man physically but he is aesthetically pleasing, slender and pale.  Many of the officers she has served with would be diminished by the removal of their uniform.  Hux is not.  She runs her eyes down to the taper of his hips and the slight softness of his belly and rear.  She waits until his uniform is neatly folded away before she reaches for the rope.</p><p>"Hands," she says and he shifts his arms behind his back.  She guides his hands to clasp the opposite elbow and winds the rope around it.  The pink does look particularly fine against his skin.  She loops it around his upper arm, lets the loose ends trail over his shoulder and down his chest.  He shivers when it skims against sensitive skin.  Phasma smiles as she checks his circulation.  He flexes his fingers, taps the tips against her hand and shivers again at her low "Good."</p><p>He is delightfully responsive like this.  Phasma crosses the rope over his collarbones, again across his sternum and ties the ends off around his hips.  She circles back around in front of him.  His eyes are half-closed and she runs her thumb across his lower lip.  The callouses catch and his tongue darts out.  She likes him like this.  He's fantastically malleable, out of his uniform.</p><p>She guides him across the floor to the bunk.  He goes to his knees with a fluid grace that captivates her.  Phasma spends at least one designated conditioning period per rotation with him.  It is usually in privacy; his rank permits such indulgence and she enjoys watching him while he works through the movements of the Jedhan <em>Yhangari</em>.  He brings a tangible beauty to the shapes and movements.  Her own preference is for full-contact martial arts as befits her role.  Still she enjoys these private displays rather more.  She shrugs out of her robe.  His appreciative regard is a warm balm against the many derogatory comments her build inspires in lesser men.  </p><p>Phasma takes a seat on the edge of the bed with her legs parted and combs her fingers through his hair.  Free of the wax, it is silken soft; softer than the rope even.  Hux's lips part as she scratches lightly across his scalp.  His head tips back, baring the long line of his neck.  She slides her fingers past his parted lips and feels him swallow around them.  Phasma applies just enough pressure to keep his head tilted back, making him work to keep his balance.</p><p>His tongue curls around her fingers and she crooks them slightly.  The wet sound of his mouth makes the muscles in her belly clench.  She shifts and his eyes catch hers.  She presses her fingers deeper, feels the hum reverb up and the contraction of his throat against the pads of her fingers.  She feels the heat rising between them but lets the moment draw out until Hux is pink-cheeked and the stiff line of his back has softened.  Phasma draws her fingers out with a slick sound.</p><p>"Time to put that mouth to better use," her voice comes out rougher than she intends but it sends a shiver down the length of his spine.  She leans back on her arms as she runs her eyes down past the criss-cross of ropes as he resettles himself.  She crooks her left leg over his shoulder and draws him in.</p><p>Hux really does have a skillful mouth.</p><p>Her release, the first of the evening, is quick but satisfying.  A liquid rush of pleasure outward from her centre that makes her gasp.  </p><p>Hux, when she lets him up, is flushed a shade darker than the rope restraining him, her slick glistening on his face and his own arousal evident.  Phasma ruffles a hand through his hair and feels a lazy pleasure at his dark eyes and panting breath.  It takes no effort to draw him up to kneel on the bed.  Phasma steadies him with a hand curled in the rope crossing the hollow of his back.  She reaches for the oil and drops it to the bed by her knee.  Hux's skin is hot against hers.  She draws him back, half-sitting against her with his head tipped back against her shoulder.  He's breathing heavier already and she pours some oil into the cup of her hand.  It is cool and smells faintly of something sweet and decadent.  </p><p>She closes a hand around his cock and Hux gasps.  His hair is soft against her shoulder.  He twists under her hands, pants for air and Phasma sets a steady pace, slow enough to tease but fast enough to inflame.  It seems to take no time at all before Hux has his eyes scrunched up.</p><p>"Close," he gasps.</p><p>Phasma releases him immediately, hand pressing against his stomach as his hips twitch desperately.  She sets her teeth lightly against the join of his shoulder and neck and tastes the rapid flutter of his pulse.  The sounds escaping through his teeth are desperate and mostly consist of punched out breaths.  Her nails are blunt, as befits her duties, but he writhes so prettily when they catch on his nipples.  She waits until his breathing evens out before she takes him in hand again.</p><p>Again, she draws it out.  She knows how to tantalize but Hux hardly needs it.  Like this, he's all but mindless in his lust for release.  </p><p>"Close," he warns, biting at his lip.</p><p>She turns his head enough to take his lips.  Hux kisses her and opens his mouth eagerly at the lightest pressure.  He's shaking against her now and Phasma tweaks a nipple to make him whimper.  </p><p>The third time he warns her off, she stops stroking him but keeps a loose hold of his cock.  He writhes in her grip without the leverage or freedom to achieve anything but frustration.  She bites into his neck to distract him and the strangled noise he makes is almost a curse.  He is hot as fire against her now and lost to everything but the lure of release.</p><p>Twice more, she brings him to the brink before she tumbles him down to the bed on his back.  She swings a leg over his narrow hips and guides his cock inside her.  Her own breath hisses through her teeth and he groans as she tightens around him.  She's close already, feeling the tingle that runs up her spine.  Hux's mouth hangs open as she rocks against him.  Still teasing, but both of them now.</p><p>It's obscene.  Wet desperate sounds, the sweat, the lust and the shocky little gasps that escape them both.  Phasma draws her pleasure out, quickening her pace by degrees until climax rushes through her.  She relaxes, weight pinning his hips to the bed as the aftershocks wash through her.  She braces herself with a hand by Hux's head and takes a moment to savour how he looks.  Feral and desperate, such a contrast to the perfectly proper General of his normal life.</p><p>It pleases her to draw this out for just a little longer.  There is a rush of power in having Hux so completely focused on her; his pleasure entirely hers to control.  She bends enough to capture Hux's slack lips in an indulgent kiss.  He's still hard, shaking with the force of his need and she breaks the kiss to whisper "Now" in his ear.  Hux's whole body arches beneath her, eyes fluttering closed.  She kisses him through the aftershocks, curls her fingers in his hair and steals the breath he tries to catch.</p><p>When it is done and he's lax against the bunk, Phasma moves.  The sticky wetness is a mild discomfort but a fair price for the pleasure still humming through her.  She rolls Hux onto his stomach to unpick the knots.  His eyes are heavy and she feels again the weight of the trust reposed in her.  He would let no other see him so, she knows.  The rope leaves minimal marks but she makes him flex his fingers and wets her own fingers in oil again.  </p><p>Even half-asleep and utterly spent, his shoulders are stiff.  She works the knots loose, rewarded with his hum of pleasure and rubs the residue down his spine.  She shifts her weight enough to lie beside him, feeling his breath against her neck.  The medical droids have informed her that proximity to another human like this is beneficial so Phasma feels no regret for taking this time to simply feel the warmth of his body and the relaxation in her own muscles.</p><p>She rouses him from the bed before he can fall asleep; he will not appreciate the oil drying on his skin.  They share the shower; the wasteful indulgence of actual water is thus somewhat mitigated.  Hux does not use this feature often, she knows, preferring the sonic as all proper recruits of the First Order do.  It takes less time to clean themselves with water than with sonic and it feels like a worthy reward for their shared efforts.</p><p>When she leads Hux back to the bunk, the droid has changed the sheets and remade the bed.  Hux holds the covers for her and follows her into the bed.  The air in the room is cool, almost cold after the warm humidity of 'fresher.  Hux rolls close enough that she can fit an arm around him and draw him close enough to share the heat of their bodies.  He sighs, a rush of air against her throat and relaxes into sleep.</p><p>"Lights, five percent," Phasma says and takes a second to settle them both comfortably before she follows.</p><p>The next morning, Hux's alarm wakes them both with a quarter-shift before Phasma's training shift with the new 'troopers and Hux's assigned bridge rotation.  Hux uses the 'refresher while Phasma orders breakfast for them both.  He is sitting at the table, coat still folded on the dresser to his left, when she emerges.  He pours her a cup of kaf and they talk about the new ship and the officers who have been reassigned.  Hux has no particular complaints.  Not yet.</p><p>"What of Leader Snoke's apprentice?" Phasma asks.</p><p>"Kylo Ren?" Hux actually pauses to consider.  "Newly brought to the Order, I believe.  The Supreme Leader desires to teach him command."</p><p>"Then he is fortunate to be stationed on the <em>Finalizer</em>," Phasma observes.  Hux lifts an eyebrow at her.  "He could be stationed with Tarkin..."</p><p>"Stars preserve," he says and they share a smirk.  "He's another of Leader Snoke's mystics, I imagine.  Apparently he wields a lightsabre.  It is to be hoped he has more restraint than the first Ren."</p><p>"Indeed," Phasma keeps her face carefully blank, mindful that her helmet is sitting by the door.  She did not care for Ren, a venal little toad prone to tantrums when the General declined to indulge him.  "That remains to be seen.  I will ensure the 'troopers do nothing to provoke him."</p><p>"Wise," the General says absently as if he expects no less.  Phasma has sorely missed his command.  Too many of the Order's higher commanders fixate on her gender or her low birth.  Hux sees only her ability, proven over years of loyal and obedient service.  He does not waste the time to express her orders in redundant repetitions.  He gives the order and trusts in her judgment to see it done.  As is most efficient but many of the old Imperials are still wedded to the failures of the past.</p><p>"The new FN corps are developing nicely," she says.  "Reports show there are several worth further training."</p><p>"Good," Hux says.  "It might be possible to have them stationed on the <em>Finalizer</em> for their first missions prior to final verification."</p><p>"That would be satisfactory," she says as Hux's comm goes off.  He picks it up and a shrill-voiced lieutenant requests the General's presence on the bridge immediately to deal with some issues.  Hux's eyes narrow but he acknowledges the request as he rises to his feet and pulls on his coat.</p><p>"Captain," he says.  "Feel free to finish your breakfast, I must deal with this fool."</p><p>"Thank you, General," Phasma dips her head as the General does up the last of the fastenings.  He scoops up his datapad as the door swishes open.  Phasma returns her attention to her food, noting with some satisfaction that the General had eaten a full breakfast before his untimely departure.</p><p>She rises when she is done, the droid coming to clear the table and settles her helmet in place.  She feels loose and awake, ready for even the most irritating of duties.  The last thing she dons is her cloak.  She sweeps through the door to find Lord Ren, apparently having just exited his own quarters, in the corridor.</p><p>"Captain Phasma?"</p><p>"Lord Ren," she inclines her head and sweeps past him.  There is a niggling sense of pressure in the back of her head but she determinedly focuses on the drills she intends to run and the feeling passes.  She does not think much of their encounter.  The Force is something that does not touch on her duties or responsibilities and she does not expect that Lord Ren will require 'troopers.  No doubt he has inherited Ren's acolytes and that will be sufficient.</p><p>The latter assumption proves incorrect although Phasma is fortunate that the General remains her ultimate commander and the one who assigns 'troopers based on Lord Ren's needs.  Her proximity to the General means that she sees a great deal more of Lord Ren than most of the <em>Finalizer</em>'s crew.  She finds it tedious.  He is prone to fits of great petulance and random acts of destruction that achieve nothing but extra work for the technicians.  He has even been so reckless as to attack lower ranked officers.  Phasma nearly loses a 'trooper to one of his fits but the General intercedes in the strongest terms and Ren is more careful after that.</p><p>He does not attack the troopers or technicians, unwilling to provoke the General's own temper.  The General does not intercede as forcefully on behalf of his junior officers, feeling that their own actions should be enough to dissuade him.  Lord Ren never physically attacks the General although Phasma thinks he comes close on several occasions.  She does not trust in his restraint and General Hux's disregard for his own safety is grounds for serious concern.  Phasma makes several of her more trusted troopers aware of her concerns and organizes an unofficial rota to be sure the General is never unguarded in Lord Ren's presence.</p><p>This draws Lord Ren's ire...or perhaps <em>attention</em> might be more accurate.  She knows he guesses at her actions; she has long since become accustomed to the rude sense of intrusion when he seeks to pick her thoughts from her head.  Another attempt to isolate the General, she assumes.</p><p>She does not reassess this assumption until a year before the <em>Starkiller</em> Base becomes operational.  She reports to the General's quarters for that rotation's Intimacy Assignment.  The General has been overworking himself and the medical corps authorise two shifts for the encounter.  Phasma cuffs Hux to his own bunk, fitting a length of Nabooian silk between his lips to muffle his cries and spends nearly two sub-cycles working him open with a sweet-scented oil that smells like an Outer Rim brothel.  With his wrists secured to the bed, he has no leverage and it is easy to pin his hips in place.</p><p>When he is suitably pliant, Phasma takes up the plug she had specially ordered.  The round weights are too narrow to reward the desperate clench of his body and they shift with even the slightest motion.  Hux keens desperately, hips rocking as he seeks more stimulation.  Phasma runs her nails up along his chest and Hux's cry when she pinches a nipple is nearly a shout.</p><p>He whines needily when she pins his thighs to the bed.  His cock is hard and hot in her mouth.  She does not care much for the act itself but it unravels Hux's control faster than anything.  Pinned like this, he can only plead through the gag.  She draws it out until tears run from the corners of his eyes into his hair and his breath comes in great gulping sobs.  She eases off just enough that his hips can twitch up and he chokes on his own breath.  Phasma barely has to touch him before he climaxes.</p><p>She fetches a damp cloth to clean off his stomach.  Hux's eyes are closed, chest heaving and Phasma cleans him carefully before she reaches for the blindfold.  He barely seems to notice as she secures it in place.  She enjoys this but Hux is more self-conscious, slow to let go of his reserve.  They save it for when she has time to work him through more than a single release.  Tonight, she has that time and he is already whimpering faintly as his awareness returns.</p><p>The plug keeps him from settling and Phasma straddles his hips to keep him from moving too much.  She takes her time; touches him in the areas that she knows will inflame him.  With the blindfold on, he's noisier than he normally is.  No words.  She doesn't need them.  She has the ripple of skin over muscle, the shiver of need and the racing thunder of his heart.  She teases him, holds him on the edge until he's a thing of mindless need, arching to be closer as if magnetized to her hands.</p><p>He's shaking all over when she takes him inside and the groan that escapes sounds agonized.  Phasma drives her hips down, her own release closer than she thought and hears him puff out a tremulous breath as he fights to keep control.  She's in no mood to be lenient and folds to bite his neck.  She bites a little harder, perhaps, than she should.  It's worth it for the way he jolts under her and the last of his control shatters.  They climax in a rut of animalistic indulgence and Phasma feels no real regret when she sees the red mark on his neck.</p><p>It is low enough to be mostly covered by his collar which is all that regulations require.  It will likely pass completely unnoticed; the <em>Finalizer</em>'s officers know better than to stare at their General.  Phasma smears a touch of bacta-gel ointment over the mark while she supports Hux in the shower and thinks no more of it.  He is still pliant, drowsy in a way that suggests he will sleep a full off-shift.  He curls into her arms, never rousing more than halfway and is soundly asleep before she even dims the lights.</p><p>The next morning, Hux hisses once as he does up the collar button of his shirt but he shows no other sign of discomfort as they eat breakfast.  His appetite is much improved and Phasma contemplates increasing their Assignments for the remaining duration of <em>Starkiller</em>'s construction.  She makes a mental note to check with the medical corps later that day.  The General's datapad chimes as he sips at his second cup of kaf and he swipes the notification up.</p><p>"Ren's found another lead on Skywalker, allegedly," he sighs and drains the last of his kaf.  "He wants to formulate a strategy and have fresh 'troopers assigned."</p><p>"I will assign Corporal Antimar to run the morning drills," Phasma reaches for her own datapad.</p><p>"I do not understand his obsession with the man," the General sets his cup down.  "Skywalker has fled the Known Galaxy.  By Ren's own report, he is a broken old man without the will to teach or fight.  Let him rot in the depths of whatever faroff hole he's hiding in.  His days are past."</p><p>Phasma makes an absent sound of agreement as she dons her armour and checks her blaster as Hux straightens his uniform.  She falls in behind him as he leaves and keeps a respectful pace back the whole way to the conference room where Ren and one of his Knights are already waiting.  Captain Peavey, looking hunted, is standing by the door until the General dismisses him with a wave.</p><p>"General," Ren's voice is unreadable through the mask he persists in wearing.  Phasma has only seen him shed it in the presence of the General, usually when they are arguing as if to make a point.</p><p>"Lord Ren," the General takes his seat at the head of the table.  "I understand you have new information?"</p><p>"Yes," Lord Ren gestures at his Knight. "Trudgen has found evidence that Skywalker left a map to his location.  Doubtless for Organa to find him if she felt it was necessary."</p><p>The General turns his attention to the Knight who brings up a projected map of systems and launches into his report.  Phasma is distracted by a sharp intake of breath from Lord Ren.  The General spares him a momentary glance before turning back to the Knight and his report.  Phasma avails herself of her vizor's camouflage and turns her eyes to Lord Ren.  He is angry, she thinks.  His hands clenched in fists and his breathing fast and audible through the mask.  His gaze seems to be fixed on the General and Phasma feels a sudden sense of alarm.</p><p>Has Lord Ren snapped?  If he attacks the General, Phasma will be forced to intervene.  She shifts her grip on her blaster fractionally.  She is not certain that she will be able to react fast enough.  But Lord Ren makes no move towards the General.  She is obliged to move her head slightly to verify what has drawn Lord Ren's focus from his irrational quest to locate Skywalker.  Her initial survey shows only the General and it is not until the General turns his head to look at a projection that Phasma remembers the mark she left.  Less than half a centimetre shows over the collar of his coat but the bruise has darkened enough to be clearly visible if one knows where to look.</p><p>Phasma feels a second of disorientation as her perspective on Lord Ren undergoes a rapid change.  Lord Ren's behaviour is suddenly more explicable.  The rivalry that she ascribed most of his temper to undoubtedly exists but it is a secondary motivation at best.  More likely tertiary.  Lord Ren desires the General.  It is shockingly out of character but as Phasma reassesses previous observations in light of this new possibility, she concludes that it must be so.  She returns her attention to the display, keeping Lord Ren visible in her peripheral vision at all times, and begins amending her plans and procedures.</p><p>She says nothing to the General until they have left the conference room, and Lord Ren, behind.  "Lord Ren seemed distracted."</p><p>"More of this childish obsession," the General scoffs.  "As if one man could hope to thwart the First Order."</p><p>Phasma nods once.  So, the General has not noticed Lord Ren's fixation.  This is not unexpected.  The General distrusts expressions of interest as empty flattery and juvenile manipulation.  Phasma knows better; over the 1.74 decades of their assignment, no less than four hundred other officers have approached her to broker a change of assignment.  She has even informed him of some of the more persistent offenders but the General places no real confidence in his physical appeal.  It does not impact his duties or his performance and Phasma has limited her correction to the encounters between them.  The General believes, accurately, that she feels a sexual attraction to him and that has been sufficient.  Until now.</p><p>Phasma considers briefing him fully on this new development but the effort required to correct his misapprehensions would be considerable and there is no guarantee of success.  She will instead brief the 'troopers that she has assigned to monitor the General's well-being.  Satisfied with this conclusion, she returns her attention to her assigned duties.</p><p>Captain Peavey seeks her out the day after that.</p><p>"Captain Phasma?"</p><p>"Captain Peavey," she waves the patrol that she was inspecting away.  "Dismissed."</p><p>"Yes, Captain!" The new FN corps is proving to be most satisfactory.</p><p>"A word in private, if you please," Captain Peavey looks discomforted.  Phasma follows him into a small room off the corridor.  "I, ah, wanted to inform you that a complaint of fraternization has been filed against you.  By, uh, Lord Ren."</p><p>"A complaint?" Phasma's first assumption is that the overgrown child is seeing salacious intent in her interactions with her 'troopers.  He would not be the first to mistake her concern regarding their performance for sentiment.</p><p>"Yes, Captain," Captain Peavey clears his throat.  "Between you and, er, General Hux."</p><p>Phasma laughs and Captain Peavey twitches sharply in surprise.  "General Hux is my Assigned Intimacy Assistance Partner and has been for many years."</p><p>"Oh," Captain Peavey frowns down at his datapad.  "Well, why in the stars-?"</p><p>"Lord Ren stands somewhat apart from the First Order proper," Phasma reminds him.  "He may simply be ignorant.  Frivolous discussions of IAPs and IIAAs are strongly discouraged after all."</p><p>"Of course," Captain Peavey's expression clears and he relaxes.  "Thank you for your time, Captain.  I apologise for the interruption to your duties."</p><p>Phasma inclines her head.  The Captain's only other option would have been to bring the matter to the General himself and face the General's entirely appropriate rebuke.  Peavey lacks the resolve to challenge the General directly.  She knows that the Captain's own IAP is Radar Technician Sothin; they have been assigned for nearly half a decade and the Captain's last promotion was assisted by that assignment.  Peavey is not a sex-averse purist.  He will dismiss the complaint.</p><p>She does wonder if Lord Ren will escalate his complaint.  Choosing to lodge his complaint with Captain Peavey suggests he does not wish to confront the General directly.  He cannot complain to Phasma who is Peavey's equal in rank.  The only remaining option is the Supreme Leader.  Phasma does not know how much attention Leader Snoke pays to the IAP/IIAA program.  She has seen enough of the General's reports to know that general statistics are kept, usually by the medical corps.  Supreme Leader Snoke unquestionably has the authority to reassign the General.  Phasma finds that this thought displeases her and shakes it off immediately.</p><p>Her life is her duty.  The Will of the Order will be done.</p><p>She does allow herself to remain alert to Lord Ren's behaviour and her next assignment with the General is also booked for a double shift.  Despite her misgivings, nothing happens.  No further complaints are lodged.  FN6645 reports that Captain Peavey had in fact briefed Lord Ren about the IAP/IIAA program.  In addition, they report that Captain Peavey also told him that Phasma was the General's IAP which is a breach of regulations but she dismisses the idea of reporting said breach.  The General would not be pleased to know he is the subject of gossip.  </p><p>The General has not mentioned the matter at all, implying that Lord Ren must not have complained to the Supreme Leader.  It is the only logical conclusion.  Even if the General had successfully defended himself from the complaint, his mood would have been soured and his focus on the final preparations for <em>Starkiller</em> would have suffered.</p><p>She considers the matter for several days during her off-shifts.   Her best understanding suggests that Lord Ren has not raised the matter of his desire with Leader Snoke at all.  Possibly Leader Snoke does not know of it.  Leader Snoke desires that Lord Ren be entirely dependent on him.  If Leader Snoke learned that Lord Ren was developing an attachment to the General, he would be displeased.  Given the one-sided nature of this attachment, he would not eliminate the General but he would assign Lord Ren elsewhere.  Lord Ren is clearly aware of this.  His silence suggests he is unwilling to be separated from the General. Her assumption may give him too much credit for intelligence but she allows it to stand.</p><p>Then Starkiller is completed, FN-2781 defects with a Resistance prisoner and the map Lord Ren was so desperate to obtain, and Lord Ren departs with the <em>Finalizer</em> in pursuit.  Phasma opts not to accompany the ship, availing of the privilege of being on the stage behind her General when the weapon is fired and the Republic is destroyed.</p><p>Almost before their triumph has happened, things go wrong.  Lord Ren brings a scavenger from Jakku back to <em>Starkiller</em> instead of the map.  The Resistance, now aware of the weapon and its potential, follow him back.  With the aid of a dangerously deranged FN-2781, they penetrate the base.  Phasma is captured and compromised in her turn.  The lowering of the shields should not have been a fatal act but her faith in the additional security measures proves misplaced.</p><p>She does not witness the fall of the base.  She is recovered unconscious from the refuse disposal by a squad of troopers and regains consciousness only a quarter of an hour before she and most of the General's staff are transferred to the <em>Supremacy</em> alongside General Hux.</p><p>Phasma presents herself to General Hux as soon as she can, intending to apologize.</p><p>"Don't dwell on it," General Hux dismisses her apology out of hand.  "The base would have endured if Ren had not been so enraptured in the scavenger that he neglected to secure the Resistance agents."</p><p>Phasma adds this failing to the tally of Lord Ren's failures and addresses herself to the matter at hand.  The General intends to completely destroy the Resistance.  His plan is tactically sound but again, failings in the junior officers draw the encounter out.  Phasma does get a chance to relieve her frustration by finally executing FN-2781, the General leaving the matter entirely in her hands.</p><p>Before she can erase this mistake of a being, the <em>Supremacy</em> is subject to a catastrophic attack by the dregs of the Resistance.  She fights the traitor amid the chaos until the deck fails and she falls into fire.  She has the single, final thought that it is a ridiculous way to die.  Then there is darkness.</p><p>When she wakes again, she is on a cot in an overcrowded medical bay.  The lights are low and flicker intermittently.  There are two small screens affording her privacy.  General Hux is sitting on a stool by her bed with his head in his hands.</p><p>"General Hux," her voice is harsh from the smoke and she can barely manage a whisper.</p><p>"Captain," he sits up sharply.  She frowns.  There is something wrong with his voice.  "You are awake.  Good.  That's good."</p><p>"I...apologise," Phasma manages.  "I do not recall..."</p><p>"The Resistance left a suicidal pilot in their main flagship," the General rasps.  "When we started to fire on their shuttles, the pilot disabled the safety protocols and launched their flagship into hyperspace <em>through</em> our battle group."</p><p>Phasma takes a moment to digest the information.  She has long known that the Resistance is prone to mental deficiency but this is a sobering escalation.</p><p>"During the confusion, there was a confrontation in the Supreme Leader's throne room," the General continues.  "Supreme Leader Snoke was murdered by the scavenger who somehow managed to infiltrate the <em>Supremacy</em> before finding her way to the throne room where Ren apprehended her and brought her to Snoke.  Leader Snoke's guards were killed in the confrontation, at which point the scavenger overwhelmed Ren and fled by way of his dead father's decrepit freighter and rescued the remnants of the Resistance before we could exterminate them via ground assault after Ren declined to order an orbital bombardment."</p><p>Phasma blinks.  This is very nearly a worst case scenario.  Ren crazed and in control of the First Order is disastrous enough.  "And he thinks you believe this?"</p><p>"Given that he apparently believes me in ignorance of Leader Snoke's derogatory opinion of me?" The General winces as he resettles himself.  "I presume so."</p><p>"It would be in character," Phasma says before she pushes herself up.</p><p>"The medical droids advised that you rest for at least another cycle," the General assists her to sit regardless.  She feels the wince as he bends his back.  Phasma takes a moment to self-assess and decides that her physical condition is functional.  She turns her attention to her General.  He is pallid, showing severe signs of exhaustion but more worrying is the slight hunch in his shoulders and spine.  She has served with General Hux through campaigns that kept them awake and on duty for days and never seen his posture falter.</p><p>"You have been injured," she says and his gaze flickers away from her.  She swings her legs over the side of the cot with minimal disorientation.  The General does not resist when she hooks a finger into his collar, revealing a band of red-purple bruising around the larynx.  "Who did this?"</p><p>"The new Supreme Leader was eager to teach me my place," the General's smile is barely a grimace.  Phasma feels a surge of honest rage.  Kylo Ren is not the first to think his mindless brutality renders him superior.  He is not even the first to believe that it affords him some manner of dominance over her General.  It still enrages her.  "I should leave you to your rest.  The Order is in sore need of your diligence and good example."</p><p>"I do not need rest," Phasma insists.  "Let another casualty have the cot instead."</p><p>The General hesitates.  If he orders her to remain, Phasma must obey.  His pride wants to order her away.  She knows him well enough to see the indecision.  It is a great relief when he sighs.  "If you insist.  Stars know the salvage is proving to be a disaster."</p><p>Phasma is careful not to let her reaction show on her face.  "I am ready to assist, General."</p><p>"You'll have to make do with standard armour for now," the General warns.  "Your armour is in need of repair and-"</p><p>"There are higher priorities," she acknowledges.  "I do not require my armour to perform my duty."</p><p>The General inclines his head and leads her out.  The <em>Supremacy</em> is devastated.  Damage is everywhere and even the most vital systems are cutting out intermittently.  There is no sign of Lord Ren.  The General assumes command, issuing the necessary orders and rallying the confused troopers.  Phasma stays close, issuing necessary orders to the troopers who are performing vital tasks.  The work takes hours.  They are afforded short breaks to snatch what sleep they can before another crisis erupts.</p><p>The <em>Supremacy</em> is finally deemed salvageable and rendered fit for transport to a shipyard.  The General tells her that they will be returning to the <em>Finalizer</em> at the conclusion of their next active shift.  Phasma takes the time to have her armour loaded for transport.  There will be time for repairs soon.  They are in the elevator, descending to the hanger where their transport awaits, when the General takes a freshly minted identity disc from his pocket and hands it to her.</p><p>"The fire damaged your previous tracker," he says.  </p><p>Phasma accepts the disc.  She is not classified as essential personnel and does not warrant an implanted tracker.  She had not been aware that she had any tracker on her person but her survival of the dual catastrophes of <em>Starkiller</em> and the <em>Supremacy</em> suddenly makes a great deal more sense.  The General keeps his gaze on the doors as she draws out the chain around her neck and adds the new identity disc.  She has her armour back in place as the door swishes open.</p><p>The shuttle that has been made available to them is the <em>Upsilion</em>.  The General's fleeting frown suggests surprise.  He says nothing to any of the crew who oversee the preparations.  The flight is uneventful, their arrival is quick and Captain Peavey reports minimal issues.  The General dismisses her and Phasma receives confirmation from FN-77634 that he has reached his quarters without incident less than five minutes later.  She uses the 'refresher in her own quarters and emerges to a more troubling alert; Supreme Leader Ren has also returned to the <em>Finalizer</em> and has in fact designated her as the new flagship while the <em>Supremacy</em> is being repaired.</p><p>Her sleep is uneasy and she wakes with the feeling that her familiar quarters have somehow become a disputed zone.  She keeps her blaster by her and returns to her duties.  For the next cycle, all is as it was prior to the completion of <em>Starkiller</em>.  The only immediate change is that Lord Ren forgoes his mask during briefings and missions.</p><p>The General therefore becomes aware of how often Lord Ren stares at him.  He retreats behind a mask of precision and reserve.  A lesser man might have been discouraged, Phasma admits begrudgingly.  Ren is not a lesser man but he does nothing to indicate his intentions.  Phasma begins to regret that the Supreme Leader is so constantly present on the <em>Finalizer</em>.  She is no longer certain of her place within the Order.  The new Supreme Leader's focus on the scavenger is worrying.  His devotion to the 'mysteries of the Dark Side' sounds too close to the derangement of the late Empire.  She does not consider defection; the Resistance are more irrational and dogmatic.  As the new Supreme Leader causes more disruption however, she starts to wonder if it would not be better to simply leave.</p><p>She does not realize, until her comm reminds her, that they are overdue for an IIAA.  She acknowledges receipt of the alert and a fresh message appears, directing her to report immediately to the Supreme Leader.</p><p>The two do not seem ...unrelated.</p><p>She dons her armour and proceeds directly to the Supreme Leader's audience chamber.  Ren is sitting in the dark and there is something feral in his eyes that she does not like.  Her finger itches for a trigger but she is not so foolish as to believe she would get a shot off.  It is juvenile intimidation, nothing more.  She salutes and takes a knee before him.</p><p>"You may stand, Captain Phasma," Ren tells her with a casual wave of his hand.  She obeys but keeps her mouth firmly closed.  "I have called you here regarding your imminent IIAA."</p><p>"Supreme Leader?"</p><p>"I was never assigned an IAP for reasons best known to the late Leader," Ren says.  "I have been briefed on the regulations and I find myself in something of a dilemma."</p><p>"I regret that my understanding of those regulations is limited to my own situation, my Lord."</p><p>"No doubt you are aware of the restrictions regarding rank," Ren purrs.  "It is strongly discouraged that an IAP should be more than three ranks junior."</p><p>"I have heard that regulation," Phasma admits.</p><p>"You have been partnered with the General for a long time, I believe?"</p><p>"Our assignment was made when he was an Ensign," Phasma says.  It is the truth.  "Longevity is considered more desirable than an absolute enforcement of rank differential."</p><p>"I agree," Ren surprises her.  "My dilemma remains.  As Supreme Leader, the only individual who can be said to stand within three ranks of my own is General Hux."</p><p>Phasma feels sweat starting to bead down the length of her spine.  She elects not to respond.  Ren is studying her with a smug smirk curling over-sized lips.  A hunter who has cornered his prey.  She does not understand why he has brought her here.  He has the authority to simply order them sundered.  All regulations are subject to the whims of the Supreme Leader after all.</p><p>"I am also aware that your pairing has been highly successful and the medical corps recommends continuation," Ren adds.  "Therefore it seems best that your pairing be ...expanded."</p><p>The smirk implies all that he is not saying.  Phasma wrestles down her reflexive rejection.  The Supreme Leader does not make requests.  She inclines her head and Ren's smile broadens.  She straightens.  "The recent turmoil has delayed our scheduled IIAA.  Our standard procedure is to complete it as soon as possible."</p><p>"Commendable," Ren mocks.</p><p>"Shall we report to your chambers at shift-end?" Phasma inquires, trying to sound as if she is discussing maintenance schedules.</p><p>"That should be satisfactory," Ren drops a hand to the arm of his throne.  Phasma focuses on the neatly rolled gag and her blood runs cold.  "I will direct the droids to bring your little...tools."</p><p>"Thank you, Supreme Leader." Phasma salutes and when Ren adds nothing further, she backs out of the audience room.  She marches past his guards with her head high.  Nothing of the turmoil in her thoughts shows in her behaviour.  She goes directly to the General's office, ignoring any attempts to secure her attention.  The General is working through some paperwork when she enters.  He locks the door with a gesture and Phasma pulls off her helmet.</p><p>"I just received a rather alarming communiqué from R-from the Supreme Leader," the General says.  His face is a bland mask and his tone is flat.</p><p>"I was summoned to an audience with him," Phasma says.  The General's eyes close for a second.</p><p>"Not a test, then?"</p><p>"I do not believe so," Phasma admits.  "He has directed that we report to his chambers at the conclusion of this shift."</p><p>"Damn." The General sits back in his chair with a sigh.  "I apologise, Captain.  It appears that I've dragged you into this little mess.  He'd be a fool to compromise you but I'm afraid you can't trust in him to pay any attention to the greater good."</p><p>Phasma wastes a moment on regret for not correcting the General's misconception.  She does not have the time it would take to convince the General of Ren's actual interest before Ren will require their presence.  "I doubt very much that the Supreme Leader has any real interest in <em>me</em>."</p><p>The General does not miss her emphasis.  His eyes narrow.</p><p>"I believe it would be prudent to indulge him," Phasma chooses her words carefully.  "He seems to lose interest when he perceives no challenge to overcome.  Indulgence will make him more likely to move on to other concerns."</p><p>This encounter will hopefully sate whatever urges Ren is feeling towards the General.  Fantasy rarely survives the reality of sex in Phasma's experience.  Her own presence will keep Ren from brutalizing the General and when it is done, they will return to their normal routine.  It is not optimal but she sees no better alternative given the current circumstances.</p><p>"You are more knowledgeable about these matters," the General nods reluctantly.  "I will concede your point.</p><p>"I will return before the end of shift.  It would be best for us to go together."  Phasma says.  "I have a preliminary strategy in mind."</p><p>"As you think best," the General allows after a pause.  He seems willing to let her set the terms for this engagement as he has for their previous assignments.  That is promising.  Phasma departs to see to her duties as quickly as possible.  The tasks are mundane, requiring no real thought which allows her time to plan.</p><p>She makes her way back to the General's office only a few minutes before he expects her.  No point in drawing additional eyes until this particular nightmare is resolved.  He doesn't look up at her entrance, shoulders stiffening slightly.  Phasma remains by the door as he sends the last few messages and locks the console.  She says nothing when he stands.  His eyes are guarded but his posture is perfect.  Phasma falls in behind him, maintaining a distance of less than a metre as the General leads them through the ship.  The General maintains his silence but he does pause outside the imposing doors to the Supreme Leader's chambers.  Two robed guards stand like statues.  The General exhales sharply.  Phasma reaches up to remove her helmet.  He glances at her and the corner of his lip barely quirks.</p><p>The door opens soundlessly and she enters at her General's shoulder.  The interior is dimly lit but her eyes adjust rapidly.  Ren is standing in the middle of the room, wearing only the loose undershirt and breeches of his normal attire.  She has never seen him so bare, even with most of his skin covered.  The General taps at the door controls and the door closes.  They both twitch as the lock engages with a soft clunk.  Ren's lips curl into a predatory smile.  He is staring at the General as if they are alone in the universe.  The General meets his gaze and settles into an aloof at-rest.  The tension between them is almost palpable.</p><p>Phasma sets her helmet on a low table located near the door. The clink draws both men's attention back to her.  She hooks a finger into the strap securing her bracer even as she notices the objects arrayed on the table; rope, oil and three more robust forms of restraint, new and stiff.  She looks up, eyes skimming past Ren and the General's lips compress for a beat.  She sees the faintest tremble in his fingers as he reaches for the buttons on his glove.  She preempts the motion, popping the buttons and helping him tug the gloves off.</p><p>Hux lifts his hands to his collar, undoing the buttons one by one and folding it as it comes off.  Phasma strips her own armour off, stacking it beside his impeccably folded uniform.  Clad only in his identity discs, Hux keeps his eyes on her as she reaches for the rope.  It's a rich crimson, a little stiffer than she prefers but workable.  She satisfies herself that there is sufficient length for what she intends.  Her own preference is for function over appearance but she knows the more decorative patterns and how to best secure Hux.</p><p>He does not resist, moving as she directs him.  He keeps his eyes on hers, to all outward appearances ignoring the man standing less than two metres away.  Phasma combs her fingers through his hair, freeing it from the pomade.  Hux dips his head slightly to permit this and Phasma takes a second to enjoy the softness of his hair.  She takes a half-step back to admire her work.  The rope is still too dark against his skin but the neat geometric pattern is pleasing even in the low light.</p><p>His skin is cool against her fingers as she hooks them in a loop of rope.  She turns, palming the vial of oil, gaze skimming past Ren to land on the oversized bed behind him.  Ren lifts a hand towards it and she tugs Hux along.  Ren sheds his remaining clothing, arriving at the bed a step ahead of them.  His physical form is impressive.  He sprawls on the bed as if it's a throne and Phasma sees the way his breath catches as Hux lowers himself to his knees.  He's fully aroused already, skin gleaming faintly with sweat.  </p><p>Phasma crouches just behind Hux and lets go of the rope in favour of threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.  Hux shivers as she scratches her nails across the knob of his spine.  She presses lightly on the back of his head and he bends.  Ren's shudder when Hux breathes against his cock shakes the bed under him.</p><p>"Open," Phasma instructs and Hux's lips part obediently.  </p><p>His hair is hiding his eyes.  Phasma rubs her thumb against the soft skin behind his ear even as she urges him deeper.  She feels the ripple of his swallow as Ren's cock brushes his lips, the line of his jaw as he opens his mouth wider.  She keeps him there, lets him adjust to the novel sensation;  Ren’s cock is considerably thicker than Phasma’s fingers.  Hux learns quickly but she doesn't want to overwhelm him.  Ren groans deep in his throat when Hux tries to lick his lips and his tongue drags against the head of Ren's cock.  She digs her nails in as Hux tenses and feels his muscles loosen immediately.</p><p>"Slowly," she says as she flips the cap off the vial of oil with her free hand.  Hux opens his mouth just wide enough for Ren to press in.  Less than five centimetres and Ren stares down at him with hungry eyes.  Phasma presses lightly then draws him back by the grip in his hair.  "Breathe."</p><p>Hux's inhale is shaky and Ren's cock, head wet with saliva, twitches in response.</p><p>"Open," Phasma repeats and Hux opens his mouth again.  She presses him a fraction deeper this time, takes a few seconds longer to let Ren press and is rewarded with a red flush crawling up Ren's chest.  She draws Hux back again, closes her slick fingers around his half-hard cock and croons encouragement in his ear as his head tips back against her shoulder.  Ren looks down along the bound lines to where she's holding Hux's cock and his expression darkens.  Phasma curls her fingers as she draws away and Hux cries out.  She digs her nails into his sensitive scalp, letting him sag against her for a moment.</p><p>"Again," she says.  Ren's frown slackens as Hux's mouth opens wide enough to take his cock.  Ren's hips jerk and Hux chokes.  She pulls him back, lets him cough and blink his tears away.  Ren stares at Hux, pink and disheveled, with ravenous eyes.  Phasma sees the hand nearest her close into a fist.  Ren spreads his legs a little wider as Hux's breathing slows a little.</p><p>"Slow," Phasma reminds him when she guides him forward again.  "Open."</p><p>Hux opens his mouth and Ren's breath turns ragged.  He goes down more easily this time, almost eagerly and earns a shocked gasp from Ren.  Ren's head tips back then he lifts a hand.  Phasma almost knocks it aside; does the fool mean to undo all her work?  But Ren does not grab for Hux's head or thrust too deep.  His long fingers curl around Hux's jaw, brushing against the taut line of his cheek.  Hux angles his head under Ren's tentative fingers and Ren's cock slides deeper.  </p><p>Phasma feels his surprise as the muscles in his throat ripple.  Ren chokes off a curse, the muscles in his belly clenching as he bows forward.  Phasma helps Hux draw back and his swallow makes Ren snarl.  Hux keeps the tip of Ren's cock between his lips as he swallows.  Phasma steadies him, fumbling some more oil onto her fingers.  She had assumed Ren was operating with a certain level of experience but his reactions are too startled for that.  She brushes her lips against Hux's shoulder in warning before she reaches down between his legs.</p><p>Her fingers are slippery, too much oil and Hux is not as pliant as she prefers, tightening against the initial intrusion.  She strokes her other hand through his hair and waits out that first reaction.  She presses another kiss against the line of his cheek, murmuring softly.  The words don’t matter as much as the tone.  He breathes in deeply through his nose and relaxes slowly.  Ren opens lust-hazed eyes to blink down and Phasma presses Hux back down over his cock before he can gather his thoughts.  The next few minutes are a mess of slick and spit and panting desperate sweat as she plays the two men and their arousal to a fever pitch.</p><p>When she draws Hux back for the final time, Ren snarls and his nails score lines along Hux's cheek, not quite deep enough to draw blood.  Hux's head falls back, wet red mouth open and panting heavily for breath.  His eyes are glazed and his resistance is broken.  Before Phasma can urge him to his feet, Ren seizes him by the back of the neck.  Phasma almost hauls him back but Ren pulls him forward and kisses him.  It is a clumsy kiss but a fierce one.  Ren bites Hux's lower lip as he draws back to stare down at him.</p><p>Hux's whimper as Phasma slides her fingers free makes her own belly tense.  She's suddenly aware of her own arousal, almost an afterthought up to this point.  Seeing Hux undone like this, mindless and needy is potent enough.  Adding Ren's focused attention, like the portent of a storm is intoxicating.  She pulls Hux to his feet, turns his head to kiss him in her turn to taste the need humming through him.  </p><p>Ren stands, steadies Hux with hands that look much bigger against Hux's slender waist and Phasma takes his place on the bed.  She keeps her fingers hooked in the ropes that criss-cross Hux's hips and draws him down with her.  Ren, close as a shadow to Hux's back, keeps his weight from crushing her.  Phasma spreads her legs but Ren is the one who gets a hand around Hux's cock, hard and dripping and guides it into her.  The feeling of fullness makes her groan.  Hux's breath runs out in a rush and she winds her fingers in his hair, pulling him into a kiss.</p><p>She feels his sudden tension when Ren presses into him.  He pushes deeper into her as he arches away from the intrusion but there is nowhere he can go and, caught between them with his arms bound and no leverage, he is helpless to resist.  Ren braces one hand by Phasma's head and what she can see of his expression is triumphant.  Hux breaks the kiss when Ren bites into his neck, digging his teeth in where Phasma had so many cycles before.  Hux cries out.  Phasma thinks that he might have begged if he had the words.  </p><p>Ren's free hand comes up to curve around Hux's throat, dark against the pale skin.  He pulls Hux back even as he drives his hips forward.  Phasma hisses through her teeth.  Hux is not so driven, usually.  It takes more effort to shatter his reserve like this.  His hair is still so soft when she tangles it around her fingers and his pleading as she yanks on his hair is sweet.  Ren pants something into his ear that makes Hux blush almost as dark as the rope that imprisons him.</p><p>She loses her own reserve, pushing back as hard as Ren drives forward.  Hux, trapped between them, is helpless to hide his pleasure.  Ren turns his head and kisses him again.  Phasma sees the flash of teeth, the dark red of bruised lips and rakes her nails down the lines of his belly to make him squeal.  There's too much heat, the bed slippery with her own sweat, the sweat of the men dripping from their bodies.</p><p>Tightening her hand in his hair, Phasma breaks him from the kiss.  She can feel her own release approaching and Hux's body is shuddering.  There are tears in his eyes and Phasma draws it out, grip on his hair tight enough to be cruel.  Only when her own body is tightening up with the rush of pleasure does she relent.</p><p>"Now," she tells him before Ren reclaims his mouth and her release crashes over her like a tidal wave.</p><p>Hux's cry is lost in Ren's growling groan.  He bites into Hux's mouth and Phasma rides the aftershocks of Hux's pleasure, his thin body crushed between them as his own release finally claims him.  He is very beautiful like this, she thinks and bites her own mark into his clavicle.  His breath catches for a second.</p><p>Some time later, when Phasma's contentment dissipates enough to allow her to focus beyond her own body, she rouses enough to start feeling the ache in her thighs and the stickiness of various fluids.  Hux is a limp weight, held in place by Ren's more considerable mass.  He's breathing but limp against her.  She unwinds her fingers from his hair and combs the soft locks back into place.</p><p>Her movement must rouse Ren in turn, both hands finding the bed as he pushes himself up.  Phasma takes a relieved breath.  She thinks he smiles but Hux makes a soft mewling sound, twitching weakly as Ren withdraws.  She pets through his hair, humming wordless reassurance.  He must be very close to his limits, she thinks, muscles shaking with exhaustion, maybe pain.  </p><p>Ren works his arms between them, drawing Hux back and murmuring something in his ear.  Phasma stretches her legs and sits up as Hux slips free.  She reaches for the rope, still wet from sweat and starts to work the knots loose.  Ren settles Hux back on his lap, one big hand rubbing circles in the small of Hux's back.  It takes several minutes to make any progress on undoing the knots.  Hux is still shivering back from the precipice of over-stimulation, muscles jerking intermittently and he's slow to respond.</p><p>Ren looks over at the neat pile of uniforms and Hux's monuclear knife lifts into the air.  Phasma has to dry her hand on the sheets to grip it properly but it shears through the rope with ease.  They keep Hux between them, still trembling as Phasma tests the flex of his fingers and rubs the strain from his arms.  Ren kneads his shoulders as she does.  Phasma wonders if he is skimming from her mind but sets it aside.  Hux needs her attention.  Reducing him to mindless need is pleasure but it is the responsibility of putting him back together that is the true reward.</p><p>"'Fresher," Ren says at last.</p><p>They have to support Hux between them.  The brighter lights of the 'fresher make him hide his face against Ren's shoulder.  The marks on his skin are darkening now; Phasma can fit her fingers to the marks along his back and hips and the two bruises on his neck are already a smokey blue-grey.  He can stand on his own feet but Ren keeps him in the circle of his arms all the same.  They wash him together, Ren supporting him as Phasma rinses off the scratches and raw skin where the rope has rubbed and pinched.</p><p>Then it is her turn to support him as Ren's long fingers test the swollen flesh of his arse.  No blood, only overused and puffy muscle but he shivers in her arms.  The sonic dries them all and Phasma wonders what will happen now.  She is reluctant to leave Ren's chambers with Hux so soft and open.</p><p>Ren growls.  He herds them both back out into the main room where a fresh set of bedding has been put on the bed.  The air is still hot and full of the smell of sex.  Ren pulls back the covers with a wave of his hand and lets Phasma climb into the bed before he lowers Hux in after her.  He summons a glass of water from the small table by the window.  Phasma drinks first then he makes Hux drink the rest, hand cradling Hux's shaking fingers.</p><p>"Lights, five percent," Ren orders as he sends the glass winging its way back across the room.</p><p>The bed dips under his weight and his heat radiates into the space under the sheets.  Hux is breathing against her neck as Ren fits himself against Hux's back.  A hand settles against her hip.  Phasma's own exhaustion is starting to set in but she opens her eyes enough to peer at Ren.  He's looking down at Hux, at both of them maybe, with the gloating smile of the conqueror.  Ren kisses the raw red bruise that he left on Hux's neck and Hux grumbles a sleep-slurred complaint.  Ren presses closer, thumb rubbing against the curve of her hip and Phasma's eyes flutter closed.</p><p>Her last thought before she sinks into the dark is that Ren is not acting like a man who has sated his little obsession.  She may have miscalculated.</p>
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